queen of the north
by Elizabeth Blossom
Summary: This is perhaps not what Catelyn Stark had in mind when she told Jaime to protect her daughters, but this is the only way he can fulfill his vow. Jaime/fem!Jon.
1. Jaime I

Based on this ASoIaF kink meme prompt: Jaime/girl!Jon

Both Stark girls are lost now, one missing and the other one married and on the run; but Jaime fulfills his vow in the best way he can: He saves and protects Ned Stark's remaining daughter.

Mega bonus points for R + L = J but is not a deal breaker. I just one some Jaime/girl!Jon love.

Thanks to my beta, CloudyDream, for helping me clean this up!

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Jaime had been surprised when he came into the middle of a fight with the young Queen of the North and a group of bandits. He had been even more surprised when he realized she was winning. Of course, the huge direwolf that was fighting along her was probably a reason in that, and Jaime wondered what particular brand of idiot you had to be to attack the rather obvious queen.

Immediately, and without even thinking, he jumped into the fray. Joanna's eyes widened with surprise, but she didn't stop fighting. Jaime admired her skill for only a moment before some of the bandits started to swarm him, though he didn't think they recognized him.

Jaime had trained as best he could with his left hand, relearning things that before had come as naturally as breathing, but this was the first fight he had been in that was not simply practice. His body remembered how to dunk and weave around swords and knives, but he barely managed to parry the blows and hardly managed to hurt any of the bandits, let alone kill one.

But before Jaime realized it, the battle was over with Joanna killing one particularly stubborn bandit that had not decided to run away or had met the sharp side of Joanna's sword. She looked at him for a minute, and then Jaime found himself on the ground with her sword underneath his chin and Ned Stark's eyes glaring at him.

_Pretty_, Jaime thought. _No._ _Beautiful_.

Joanna Snow was not the golden-haired beauty of his sister was, but she looked just like Jaime remembered Lyanna Stark had; though there was a sort of ethereal shine to her that Lyanna hadn't had. It actually seemed familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

Of course, she was no longer a Snow. With their brothers died and their sisters missing, the young King Robb had legitimized her.

Joanna Snow was now Joanna Stark, Queen of the North, and gazing at Jaime like he was lesser than a bug she had just stomped on with her boot.

Jaime liked her.

"What do you want, _Kingslayer_?" she asked, stressing her despise by refusing to use his name. "Your sister is not here for you to fuck. She's somewhere south. Then again, I was planning on killing you, so perhaps it's a good thing you lost your way."

Jaime really liked her attitude, though he thought she could be just a bit kinder to the man who had just saved her from the bandits. Well, saved was perhaps the wrong word. She most certainly could have saved herself, Jaime had simply ended the fight a little quicker by distracting them.

"I'm not looking for my sister, Your Grace. I'm looking for you." That just got her to make the sword draw a bit of blood as her eyes sharpened.

"Why?"

"I need to fulfill a vow." That eased the sword, as Jaime knew it would. If there is one thing a Stark understood, it was fulfilling a vow. Still, he was a little offended by her eyebrow jumping up in surprise. Lannisters did have _some_ form of honor, it was simply was the form of honor that did not involve stupidity; which instead seemed to be the Starks' favorite kind.

"And what vow would this be?"

"I need to protect you."

Joanna looked at him suspiciously, and then her direwolf did something that surprised them both. It sniffed Jaime and then _licked_ him. Before Jaime could say something about the indignity, Joanna's eyes widened and she said, "I believe you."

Twenty minutes later, Jaime was watching Joanna as she began to start a fire and her direwolf sitting next to him like a guard. Jaime thought this one was more terrifying than her brother's had been with its red eyes and that it had not made a single sound from the moment Jaime had seen Joanna, but the fact that it seemed to like him was enough to make Joanna trust him.

Joanna had tied his hands together, or rather his hand and his stump, but either the young queen couldn't tie a suitable knot or she had purposely tied it shoddily. It would be ridiculously easy for him to escape either way, Jaime knew.

Protecting her dead husband's bastard might not have been what Catelyn Stark meant by "protect my daughters," but Jaime couldn't figure out any other way to fulfill it. And while Queen Joanna might not need it as much as Sansa or Arya, one look at the girl could tell you she was exhausted. She was only sixteen and found herself having to prove that she was a good Queen to all of Westeros.

"How are the battles going?"

Joanna looked up at him startled and the flames she had started seemed to leap up too. It seemed she had almost forgotten that he was there. "What?"

"I said, how are the battles going? Surely you've fought a few?"

"No. I've fought no battles. It seems that King's Landing has been too busy with your father's death and your youngest son's descent to the throne to worry much about a bastard Queen in the North. Allow me to give me both my congratulations and my condolences, by the way."

Jaime found himself giving her a little smile. Joanna reminded him of someone, though he couldn't remember who. Her expression turned into one of pure confusion, and Jaime decided to change the subject.

"So is there a King, my Queen?"

The girl truly had her father's glare.

"No? I would think men would be begging you to give them a second glance!"

Did Stark give her lessons before he came to King's Landing?

"Tell me! I tell what rumors I've heard about the men that you're thinking of. Protecting your heart counts as protecting you."

Jaime didn't honestly expect her to respond, but Joanna surprised him.

"Roose Bolton is the most persistent in trying to get me to _look_ at his disgusting son, Ramsay, though the rest of my council is trying to convince me to marry me someone in their families if not to just marry them."

Joanna almost seemed to get angry over this memory. Jaime was simply surprised that she was even talking to him.

"One or two have mentioned Euron or Victarion Greyjoy, to gain a fleet that I otherwise don't have, but the stories Theon told me about them still terrify me, no matter what Euron wrote. Of course Theon was never deserving of trust, but I still can't shake the feeling those stories gave me. Of course, looking south isn't really an option with everyone being loyal to King Tommen. Quentyn Martell could be though, I had a raven from Prince Doran."

That did not surprise Jaime. Doran Martell was a man like Tywin had been, a man who thought that all his children should be wearing crowns on their heads. Dorne had a distaste for the North ever since Lyanna Stark had run off with Prince Rhaegar and started the war that had ended with Elia and her children's deaths, but Doran must have decided that it was worth marrying his son to a Stark if it meant he would King of the North.

Jaime _was_ surprised at Joanna's words and he could tell by the look on her face that she was surprised too as well. And though she did not ask and he knew it was not his place, he said what he felt before he could even think.

"Quentyn Martell. You gain Dorne, which is more useful than the Iron Isles, and you don't insult anyone in the North by choosing one House over another."

Joanna nodded. "That's what I was thinking. Only issue is, his younger brother is betrothed to your daughter, and I'm not sure who Dorne would choose if a choice has to be made. Besides, there's somewhere I have to go first."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

Joanna looked at Jaime defiantly, "The Vale. To find Sansa. I had a dream a few nights ago that she was there and that's where I'm going. Sounds silly, I know, but that's where I'm going."

Personally, Jaime thought Joanna shouldn't be riding out to the Vale simply because she had a dream her sister Sansa was there, but the glare the Queen had given him was enough for Jaime to silence those doubts. Besides, the Vale was a good a place as any to start and who knows? They might actually find the girl there. Her cousin was the Lord, sickly little thing that he was.

It would take them about a week to get to the Eyrie and Joanna had decided to take him along than send him North for her bannermen to decide who would get the honor of killing him. Jaime wondered briefly if she was bringing him along to help him fulfill his vow to Lady Stark, or simply to just use him to barter her way out a sticky situation. Both options were equally viable.

Joanna was mostly silent after she had told him about her potential husband troubles the night before and, for once, Jaime did not feel like filling the silence with sarcastic remarks.

So they began the journey to the Eyrie in silence and Jaime briefly wondered for the first time as they did about how angry Cersei must have been when she'd noticed he had gone.

He surprised himself by not caring.


	2. Joanna I

Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and followers!

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Joanna couldn't sleep. She was too wired, too curious. She had spent the entire day traveling in silence, as she couldn't think of what to say to Jaime Lannister. She had questions, questions that she had never got a chance to ask during the time Robb had held him hostage, as she had hardly seen the man during that time period; but now that he was with her, and probably willing to listen to her questions, she couldn't think of a single thing to ask. All the questions she used to have ran through her head as she stared at Lannister's back.

She didn't want to ask him why he hated the Starks, as that was sure to involve an answer that ended up insulting her father; and she didn't want to ask him why he was actually following through on the vow he had made to Lady Catelyn, as that would more than likely just offend him. She _did_ want to ask him what life had been like when the Targaryens ruled the Seven Kingdoms, as Targaryens and dragons had always fascinated her no matter how hard her father disapproved, but seeing as how he killed the Mad King, that might be a sore subject. She also wanted to ask him how he could fall in love and sleep with his twin sister of all people, but then again, that was too private a question.

"You can ask me anything, you know," Lannister said, interrupting her train of thought and making Joanna blush. "But just know that for every question you ask, I have one I want answered too."

Joanna decided in an instant that she was going to take him up on that offer. "Very well," she said, putting on her best Queen voice. "I agree."

Lannister laughed, low and throaty, and the sound of it made Joanna flush, though why she did not know. "You start, my Queen."

Joanna took a deep breath. She had to think of a simple question, an easy one, one to get him going before she started asking the hard ones, but then one question popped into her head and before she could even think, she said it.

"Did it hurt? When they cut off your hand?" Joanna winced. Lady Catelyn always said that she had a habit of not thinking before she spoke.

She couldn't see the man in the darkness, but she was sure that Lannister was frowning. Joanna waited with bated breath for his answer, or more than likely, him bringing an end to these questions.

"Worse pain I ever felt in my life. I passed out when they did it."

"How did it even happen?"

"They were going to rape Brienne. I stopped them." Lannister presented the truth very matter of factly and Joanna was surprised by it. She assumed it was because Lannister had made one too many inappropriate comments.

Joanna remembered Brienne of Tarth. She was a tall and strong woman, but very awkward and was had been treated rudely by Robb's bannermen, though they were Joanna's bannermen now. Joanna had liked her though, and she had always tried to talk to the woman when she had seen her alone, which was often. Brienne had also been very kind, and even willing to give Joanna sword fighting lessons when she asked her. Sometimes Dacey would join them. . . . The thought of Dacey brought tears to Joanna's eyes and she turned her thoughts away.

"That's very knightly of you."

Jaime laughed. "Brienne can take care of herself. I probably didn't need to protect her. Still, she wasn't raped, so maybe it was worth it. Now my question for you. What was it like growing up as _Ned_ _Stark's_ bastard daughter?"

Joanna glared at his back and Jaime laughed again. "No, tell me. I want to know. I mean, if you didn't look exactly like him, I wouldn't believe that you were his for a minute. I mean, I just can't imagine."

"If you want to know," Joanna said hotly. "Ned Stark is best father I could have wished for. He treated me no different that children he had with Lady Catelyn and I never wanted for anything. I was only a Snow in name and the only reason I was still a bastard was because of the disrespect it would have shown Lady Catelyn. Anyway, I would have only kept the name until marriage and my father would have arranged a good one and I would have probably become the Lady of a great house in the North. In fact, there was talks of Domeric Bolton, but then he fell ill and died."

Joanna had met Domeric Bolton a few times before his death, a quiet man who was always kind to her. He never treated her like a bastard, but rather like someone he wouldn't mind marrying. She remembered that he once gave her a blue winter rose that he tucked behind her ear and she and Sansa had stayed half the night talking and giggling about what being Lady Joanna Bolton would be like while Arya rolled her eyes.

Now she was Queen Joanna Stark, who was off to find her sisters, though gods know where they were. She had to find Sansa and Arya at least; it was her fault after all, that Bran and Rickon had died.

Lady Catelyn had told Joanna to stay at Winterfell; but when Robb rode to help stop the Lannister attacks at Riverrun, Joanna had gone with him. Partly because he asked her to, and partly because she hadn't wanted to be stuck at Winterfell while a war raged on and she could fight as well as any man. She assumed that Bran and Rickon would be safe with Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin, and that nothing would happen to them.

Of course, she had been terribly wrong. When she got the news about Winterfell, Joanna had laid in bed for three days. She hadn't cried for all three of those days, but she thought about everything she should have done, everything she could have done to save them. She remembered Bran's sweet smile and the way Rickon had always hugged her like she was his favorite thing in the world.

She remembered Theon. How he would always do small things to cheer her up when Lady Catelyn hadn't been in a good mood and took it out on her, and Joanna couldn't believe that was the same man who had killed her brothers. She wanted to refuse to believe it, yet Joanna had learned long ago that life could be cruel. Ned Stark may not have refused her anything except a name and her mother's identity, but Catelyn Stark could and did.

Then Robb legitimized her and then the Red Wedding happened and the next thing Joanna knew, she was Queen of the North and the Trident as soon as everyone had known Jeyne wasn't pregnant. She had spent the past few months gaining Robb's bannermen trust. She knew that technically they were hers now, but they were still Robb's bannermen in her mind.

They would always Robb's.

But then she'd had the dream about Sansa.

It had started with a man with white hair and a woman who looked almost exactly like her, wearing a crown of blue winter roses. They were laughing and smiling, but Joanna could feel that something was wrong. There was an undercurrent of worry and anger between the two and Joanna knew that the smiles were false. Then the man with white hair looked right at her with his purple eyes and said, "Visenya."

Then the man and woman faded away and a Dornish woman was holding an infant boy and a little girl who looked to be her daughter was gripping her hand appeared before her. Another woman stood next to her, looking thin and tired. This woman had white hair like the man who had called her Visenya and next to her stood another white-haired man wearing a golden crown. "You are not to blame," they all said. "You are not the one."

The scene changed to yet another white-haired man sitting on what must be the Iron Throne, and before him were two men who looked like her father. One was younger and wearing a leather collar around his neck, and the other was older and wearing golden armor. The younger smiled widely at her, the older one smiled warmly, and the white-haired man glared and hissed at her. Not one of the three said anything to her, and the scene changed again.

This time it was Sansa. She was building a snow castle and she had brown hair, but Joanna knew her sister anywhere. "Save her," said voices behind her and for the first time Joanna could move in her dreams. She turned around and saw her father, Robb, and Lady Catelyn. "Save them all."

Then Joanna woke up with the Vale repeating in her head, in the voice of the same man who called her Visenya, and knew instantly that's where Sansa was. She quickly put Maege Mormont in charge of the bannermen while she went to find her sister.

She should have brought someone along with her, Joanna knew, but she had also knew from her dream that she had to leave alone. No voice in her head was repeating those words, but Joanna just knew, deep in her heart, that she was meant to be alone.

She had initially intended to simply let Jaime Lannister go and run back to his sister, even after he mentioned the vow that he made Lady Catelyn, but then Ghost liked him. Ghost seemed to trust him. Robb had never really put too much stock in Grey Wind and his reaction to people, but Joanna remembered that Grey Wind had never trusted the people Robb shouldn't have trusted either. If Ghost liked Jaime Lannister, Joanna knew that she could trust him.


	3. Jaime II

Enjoy!

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Jaime woke up first. Joanna had fallen asleep after only have asked one question, and answered one in return. They had both been more tired than Jaime thought they were, the excitement and the stress of trying to rescue a girl who the closest lead they had for her was a dream. Joanna had refused to divulge any sort of detail of this dream to Jaime when he had asked, simply saying he would just believe she had gone mad. That had just made Jaime more curious about what exactly this dream had in it.

Jaime yawned and got up. Joanna was still asleep, her direwolf next to her, so he tried to be as silent as he could as he rolled up his mat and pulled out an apple to eat for breakfast. He didn't want to wake the queen up. She needed sleep, it was obvious, and Jaime wondered how much she had got lately. He doubted it was much, and decided that, if she didn't get up in one hour, he would make her.

She looked her age, he noticed, when she slept, not years older. Joanna Stark was beautiful, no one could deny that. He remembered when he had seen her for the first time at Winterfell. She had looked remarkably familiar to him, and not because of Lyanna Stark like he knew Robert was seeing. She did look almost exactly like the wolf-girl, he had seen it when she'd captured him two days ago, but there was also something . . . more about her. Jaime had wondered briefly it if he had actually met the girl's mystererious mother once and who it might be, but he also hadn't much cared who it was so he simply forgot it.

He realized whom she had reminded him of a few months later when she had brought some food to him one time when he was being held hostage at Riverrun, and it confused him how Ned Stark's bastard daughter could look like Queen Rhaella.

Their cheekbones were both high unlike the Stark's, though Joanna's face was longer than the Queen's had been, and their eyes were the same shape, even if Joanna's were gray and the Queen's had been a beautiful violet.

She acted a lot like her too, but Jaime pushed those thoughts from his mind. Ned Stark must have just fucked a girl with some Valyrian ancestry to produce his daughter. More than likely Ashara Dayne like everyone whispered, though Jaime couldn't see a bit of Ashara in her. If not, some other girl, a whore from the Free Cities perhaps.

Again, Jaime pushed it out of his mind. What did it matter who her mother was? It was because of her father that she was Queen anyway.

Soon the hour had come and gone and Jaime had forced himself to wake her up.

He tossed her an apple as she yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "How long have you been up?" she asked.

"Just woke up," Jaime lied, though he could not say why. "We should get going. We're still five days from the Eyrie."

Joanna nodded and quickly got ready to leave. They were soon back on the road.

The day before had been spent mostly in silence, and the night before had been filled with the chattering of Sansa and husband's. Jaime wasn't sure what to expect from Joanna this day.

"Why are you not in King's Landing?" she asked.

Apparently, Joanna was talking today. He wondered if tomorrow would be spent in silence.

Jaime shrugged. "I just couldn't deal with my sister. I realized that after my father died. I told Brienne to look for Sansa, and then I decided two people looking were better than one." He had left right after his father's funeral. He probably should have gone to stop the siege of Riverrun, but he was surprised to find that he didn't care.

He was surprised to find that he didn't care about a lot of things actually.

Joanna nodded. "I understand," she said softly

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "You do? What part?"

Joanna blushed. Jaime realized he hadn't been meant to hear that part. "I understand about not being able to deal with sisters. It was rare that Sansa and Arya weren't arguing about _something_. I love them both and I rarely argued with either of them, but they seemed to hate each other at times. I thought you and the Queen were close though. What changed?"

_She's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleback and probably Moon Boy for all I know._

"People change and we changed too much for each other's liking."

The young Queen narrowed her eyes. He could tell she sensed more to the story that he was saying, but she didn't ask. He found that he liked the girl, and he wished for a moment that Cersei would simply have Tommen give his official seal to the documents that could allow the North to succeed from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

He knew she never would. Cersei was too stubborn, too unwilling to ever consider something that wouldn't involve her getting everything.

"I never liked her," Joanna said suddenly and Jaime turned to look at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Your sister. The Queen. I never liked her, even before she killed my father. I don't know why. I just . . . didn't."

Cersei was an acquired taste, Jaime knew. Still, some irrational part of him got angry at Joanna's words. She didn't _know_ Cersei like he did.

Then again, maybe he didn't know Cersei like he thought he did. Cersei may have changed, but Jaime couldn't deny his feeling that perhaps she hadn't changed as much as he thought, maybe he had just been blind to some of her faults. Jaime wished that she would stop asking him about his sister. He wanted to change the subject.

"Well, I never liked your family either. I don't know why. I just didn't," he replied jokingly.

"Why not?" the Queen asked, her brow furrowed as she looked at him. Jaime really didn't want to get into that, but it was better than talking about Cersei.

"All the Starks seem so high and mighty. You look down on anybody that doesn't do what you think they should do, or if they don't do it how you think they should do it."

Joanna then did something that shocked Jaime. She laughed. It was loud, high, and clear and for a minute, Jaime could have sworn that the Queen Rhaella was here again.


	4. Joanna II

Enjoy!

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"Three more days."

Joanna looked up from the fire she was building and, upon seeing the confusion on her face, Jaime clarified.

"Three more days until we arrive at the Vale, assuming we keep traveling at this same pace. In three days, we'll find out whether your sister is there or not."

Joanna looked back at the fire and swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew how ridiculous it was to put all her faith in a dream, but she didn't like to think about the fact that there was a very good chance that Sansa wasn't at the Vale. That Joanna's dream had simply been that, a dream. Right now, a _dream_ was the best possible chance Joanna had to go on and she didn't know what she do if she got to the Vale and found no trace of her sister. The idea alone made Joanna simply want to lie down and cry and possibly never get up.

Joanna had always looked up to the Targaryen and Stark queens of old. Unlike Sansa, who wanted to have a wonderful time at court and be simply a pretty little queen who had no idea what was going on the kingdom that her husband would rule, and Arya, who wanted nothing to do with courts or becoming queen, Joanna had wanted to be a great queen, a wonderful queen, a queen beloved who took the power she deserved because she worked hard for it, she struggled for it.

She won it.

Now Joanna could see that becoming a queen like that was not like the history books had made it seem. That becoming a queen like that was full of pain and grief and suffering.

"It's a good idea," Jaime said suddenly.

"What?" Joanna looked up again. "What do you mean?"

"The Vale. It's a perfectly logical place for her to be. If she isn't there, I don't know where she would be."

Joanna knew he meant those words to comfort her, but that was what scared her. Where else could Sansa be if she wasn't at the Vale? If she had come anywhere close to the Riverlands or the North, surely one of her bannermen would have informed her. If they hadn't, Joanna could only think of a few reasons why they wouldn't and none of them were comforting. And if she didn't come north when she escaped King's Landing, why would she head south or to Essos?

"She's there," Joanna said adamantly into the flames, an answer to the question that Jaime hadn't truly asked, but was there on the surface. _If she isn't there, I don't know where she would be._

She could feel Jaime's gaze upon her, but she didn't turn to look at him.

"What did you think?"

Joanna didn't turn to look at him, but she turn her gaze away from the flames. "About what?"

"Her marriage with my brother."

Joanna sighed. "I met your brother a few times at Winterfell. He seemed like a good man, in other circumstances I doubt that I would have an objection over their marriage, but in other circumstances she would not be married to him. Besides, Sansa was too young anyway, too scared. I wasn't happy with the marriage, but I was unhappier with Robb and his decision to disown her.

"That was when he legitimized me."

Joanna knew that she had Jaime's attention with those words, and she continued. "He wanted to disown Sansa, but I convinced him not too. I knew that she was living in hell at King's Landing, and I didn't want her to be forced into a marriage against her will and then find out that her brother had denied that she ever was a Stark. Robb's solution was to legitimize me, so that if anything happened to him, the North and the Trident would become mine, not Sansa's."

Joanna sighed. "I have never wanted to hurt Sansa and I would give her the North if she asked, but Robb couldn't let any Lannisters have the North." _It would tear me up inside and I could never give it gladly, but I could give it._

Joanna smiled bitterly. "Lady Catelyn had not been happy with me becoming Robb's heir, but even she saw the sense in it."

Lady Catelyn had not looked at Robb or her for three days after he had done so, but she had understood that it had to be done.

"You know," Jaime said, "my sister does not recognize you as legitimate. She claims that the North belongs to your sister, her good-sister."

"Yes, but I have the North, I have the Trident, and more importantly, it's under my control and we've recognized Stannis Baratheon is the King of the Seven Kingdoms though we are no longer his subjects."

Jaime grinned. "And what does Stannis Baratheon think of that?"

Joanna shrugged. "I don't really know. He's up at the wall, helping with the wilding attacks that have become more frequent and Brynden Tully has gone to meet him with soldiers to help. I've told my bannermen to treat him like the king he is, but make sure he remembers that I'm a Queen."

Stannis Baratheon could not afford to go to war with her, and it would be more prudent to simply cut his losses and accept them as allies, but from what she had heard about the man, he would be too stubborn to. Joanna prayed that Stannis Baratheon might just surprise them.

Joanna was silent for a moment before she began to speak again, ignoring the lump in her throat. "If Sansa is not at the Vale, then I think I will have no other option that to head to the Wall and hopefully talk and come to an agreement with King Stannis. I will pray to all the gods I can think of to bring my sisters back to me, but I don't think I can afford to linger on them or their whereabouts unless I have something to go on. If that happens, please consider your vow complete with the exception of informing me and not your sister if you receive any new information about them."

Joanna wondered if this was how Robb had felt when he had made his decisions and gained a whole new appreciation for her brother. She just wished she never had a chance too. Joanna sighed and scratched behind Ghost's ear. The direwolf, who was laying on the ground next to her, looked at her with red eyes.

Joanna wondered, truly, if she actually had a something _more_ dream that showed her where her sister was, or if it had just been a mixture of longing and want that had given the odd dream to her.

Joanna still wondered who the people in it were, as she was only sure of three of the people in it.

The two men who looked like Father and had smiled at her, Joanna thought they must be Brandon and Rickard Stark, her uncle and grandfather. The man with white hair who hissed at her from the Iron Throne was more than likely the Mad King Aerys.

She didn't why they were in her dream though, and the identities of the other's still confused her.

"Ser Jaime," she asked. "Where you there when the Mad King burned my uncle and grandfather?"

She hated how weak and childish she sounded, but still she wanted to know. Perhaps the more she knew about one aspect of her dream could help her figure out the rest.

Jaime had got their bedding ready for the night, but he stilled as soon as she asked her question.

After a few minutes of silence, he began to speak again. "Yes."

Joanna nodded and licked her lips before she began again. "What was it like?"

"A fate I never wanted to happen to anyone else."

Joanna wanted to ask more, but she could tell by the troubled expression on his face that he didn't want to her too.

Joanna could only think of one thing to say to him.

"It wasn't your fault. You weren't the only one there."

"What?"

"You weren't the only member of the Kingsguard there."

Jaime smiled bitterly. "It felt like I was. I think it felt like that for knight. And in the end, I was the only knight there. Just ask Aerys."

Joanna didn't know what to say to that, but "I'm sorry" slipped out of her before she even realized.

Jaime looked at her. "You're the first person to ever say that to me."

"I shouldn't be."

"Perhaps. But you still are."

Joanna said nothing for a moment. "You know, the only thing I can think to say to you is that you should have killed King Aerys sooner. Then people wouldn't think that you had anything to do with the killing of the Princess Elia and her children."

"You don't think that I had anything to do with it?"

"Ghost wouldn't like you if you did."

Jaime grinned. "No. I guess not." He stretched out his right hand towards the direwolf, who sniffed it and then licked it. "I always did prefer her to Grey Wind. Grey Wind was a little too angry in my opinion."

Joanna laughed for what seemed like the time in forever.


	5. Sansa I

First non-Jaime or Joanna chapter, so let me know what you think!

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Sansa was in a daze. She had been ever since Lord Petyr had told her his intentions, about this man Harry she had never met and yet would become her husband if everything went according to his plan. He planned to give her the Eyrie and then to use the Eyrie to gain back Winterfell.

"Your sister's bannermen will come running, as soon as they hear. Run from the bastard queen to the true-born one. My sweet Sansa, you will become Queen of the North, the Trident, and soon, the Vale. How could your sister even compare?"

Joanna could compare though, and that was what Lord Petyr wasn't seeing.

When Sansa had been little, Joanna was her idol. As soon as Sansa was able to walk, she would follow Joanna everywhere. Even when Sansa had grown up and learned exactly why her mother had treated Joanna differently than the rest of her siblings, she could not find it in herself to be cold and distant with her big sister. Besides, a lady should be kind to everyone, Sansa would tell herself, no matter what their social standing was.

When Sansa was Alyane Stone, she remembered Joanna and thought how funny it was that Joanna was the Queen that Sansa had always thought she'd be, and Sansa was the bastard.

But now she was Sansa Stark again and couldn't believe how close she had come to letting it slip away from her. Now all Sansa wanted to do was find her sister and kneel, find her queen and never let her go.

"Your sister's a bastard, and nothing more. She was born to Ned Stark, a fool who couldn't see what a woman your mother was until it was too late and that's why he never named hers. I've been looking into who she might have been, but I can't seem to find a thing." Sansa had been surprised by Lord Petyr's bitter confession to her, but perhaps he thought she was Alayne in this moment and not Sansa.

Sansa made a solemn vow to never become Alayne again. She would die her hair brown and call Lord Petyr 'Father', but she would remember who she was so that way she would be able to greet her sister with a smile.

Sansa sighed as she watched the cooks and servants get ready for the welcoming feast. Sweetrobin was asleep upstairs so that hopefully he could make it through the feast without to many tantrums and without him, she didn't know what to do.

Mya Stone and Myranda Royce had gone off to take care of things that they needed neither Sansa nor Alayne for, and she was bored. She remembered when she could be Sansa Stark, she and Joanna would always watch Mother organize the feast and sometimes try to help. Well, Sansa would. Mother was always uncomfortable when Joanna would try to help and so eventually, Joanna had stopped trying.

Sansa remembered when she was little she used to wonder why Arya couldn't be the bastard and Joanna her true-born sister. Arya had hardly ever acted like her sister half the time and Joanna was so much more lady-like than Arya anyway.

Now Sansa was the bastard.

Sansa wondered if she could send a raven to Joanna, but she had no idea where Joanna's base was and besides, it would almost certainly get back to Lord Petyr what she had done and then he would move her, somewhere that Joanna wouldn't be able to get too.

"Alayne." It was Lord Petyr's voice and Sansa tried to fake innocence as best she could. Tried to fake Alayne as best she could. Sansa prayed that her mother and father and Robb would forgive her for forsaking them right now, but right now she had to be Alayne. She knew that she could only become Sansa again when she finally saw Joanna again.

When she finally saw the only sibling she still had left again.

"Alayne," Lord Petyr said again and Sansa turned around. "What is it, Father?"

He smiled and it felt _wrong_. It felt dirty. "Alayne, my dear, I need you to wake up Sweetrobin. He needs to get ready for the feast."

Sansa nodded. She would do anything to get away from Lord Petyr know. She had thought that he was helping her, but if he wanted to help her he would just simply give her to Joanna, not try to take Joanna's crown.

_If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me._

Joanna didn't need to make them love her though. Sansa remembered when she was little and Joanna would try and teach her how to dance. Joanna had always loved dancing and she had always been the best dancer that Sansa had seen, though admittedly she had never really see any good dancers in the north.

She was still better than anyone Sansa had seen in the south.

Quickly, Sansa walked away from Lord Petyr and went to go wake Sweetrobin.

Fifteen minutes later, Sansa felt like screaming until there was nothing left inside of her. Sweetrobin was yelling, demanding that they let him go back to sleep because he didn't want to go to the feast. Sansa didn't want to go to the feast, she didn't want to put on a mummer's farce as everyone looked at her and waited for her to make one wrong, but she had to because she knew her duty.

_Be Alayne until you can be Sansa. Be Alayne until you can be Sansa with Joanna._

"Sweetrobin," Sansa tried to appeal. "You need to get dressed so all the ladies will be able to see how handsome you are."

He shook his head and Sansa resisted the urge to put him over her knee. Her parent's had almost never physically punished their children, but when they did, it burned onto the brain of every Stark child as a warning.

Sansa wondered how it might go if she did that to Sweetrobin, but as nice as the idea seemed, there was no way she could do it. Lord Petyr wouldn't let anything to bad happen to her, but there would surely be some form of consequence for what she did. Sansa would simply have to sustain herself on dreams.

"Sweetrobin, you need to," Sansa pleaded.

Sweetrobin looked at her. "I don't want to."

Sansa sighed. "You need to. You don't have to stay long at the feast, you just need to stay long enough for everyone to see you and what a good lord you are. Can you at least do that? Please? For me?"

Sweetrobin looked at her a moment. "Fine," he said finally and grumpily. "But only for you."

Sansa couldn't help the smile that broke across her face. "Oh, thank you, my Lord. You truly know how to take care of a lady." Sweetrobin look smug at that. She remembered what Queen Cersei said about a woman's only weapons were not simply sword and steel, or something thereabouts that, and though Sansa was loathe to take advice from that woman, she had to admit the Queen had a point. It was amazing what someone could accomplish with kind words and a smile.

Soon enough, Sweetrobin was dressed and ready to attend the feast, and thus Sansa ran to her room to quickly get ready. She brushed her hair and opened up her closet to pick out a dress.

A variety stood out in front of her. They were all beautiful, in different and bright colors, but Sansa's attentions were drawn to a dress in the back. A simply dark gray dress, with white thread embroider around the edges of the sleeves. It wasn't as eye-catching as the others, but right now, it was the only one she wanted to wear.

Sansa changed and looked into the mirror. The dye was still in it, but Sansa thought she saw some of it fading. She would have to re-dye it soon, but she took comfort in the slight hints of auburn in it. She brushed her hair slowly, taking comfort in the feel of the brush in it. Tears pricked in her eyes as she remembered how her mother used to brush her hair every night she could, as she remembered how she and Joanna would braid flowers in each other's hair and when they could, Arya's. They each had their own flower, Sansa remembered. Joanna was winter roses, Sansa was daisies, and Arya was violets.

There had been a few times they had given Mother a flower crown of daisies and violets, but never one with roses in it and they never talked about why.

Sansa put down the brush as she felt a lump grow in her throat. She missed her family. She missed her mother and her brothers, all dead. She missed her sisters though she had no idea where either of them where. She missed her father, not Lord Petyr, but her real one, her true one. The one who's smiles didn't make her uncomfortable, who always had time for her, the one who was willing to give up everything for her.

The one who died thinking she didn't care about him.

Sansa looked into the mirror. She looked so much like she remembered her mother, but Sansa saw little things of her father in her when searched. She had his nose and her eyes were the same shapes as his. "I'll try to find Joanna," she whispered. "I'll try to make you proud, though I know it's far too late."


End file.
